Defending Against the Dark Arts
by Yllems
Summary: With one catastrophic failure, Prue learns why no one ever broke the curse on Hogwarts's Defense Against the Dark Arts position. A new respect for magic might help her put the fallout to rights. And maybe afterwards, she'll be able to find a way out of the year 1938.
1. The Theif

Disclaimer: I don't have any claim on the Harry Potter franchise. I'm not going to rewrite that every chapter, so imagine the disclaimer is there in spirit.

No Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had ever lasted more than a year at Hogwarts. Prue knew it, the current DADA teacher knew it, everyone was aware of the long line of incompetent or dangerous teachers hired and dismissed from the school as a matter of course. The only competent professor brave enough to test her luck against this curse, Mrs. Scamander, had taught non-consecutively for five years in ten, but this, Prue's first year, would be the last in the cycle. Mrs. Scamander's twin boys would be joining Hogwarts the next term, and Hogwarts would be left without for at least seven years.

Prue begged Mrs. Scamander to keep up teaching, citing horror stories some of the older students had told her of professors who let loose magical creatures to 'prepare' students, who misinformed kids and said that centaurs should be dealt with like garden gnomes, and who got into scandals with seventh years that no one would explain to Prue the details of. So Mrs. Scamander told Prue everything she knew about the curse. Prue had heard of it before of course, but only from students' gossip. She hadn't really believed it. After Mrs. Scamander had acknowledged it, Prue wrung out every bit of information she could from her teacher, and in the process learned more about the wizarding world's last war than she had learned all that year.

Before Mrs. Scamander would explain the curse, she insisted on teaching Prue a bit of history. Prue didn't mind. Mrs. Scamander was a war hero, close to _the_ Harry Potter and knew more and was more candid than all of Prue's first-year histories. She spoke about Voldemort, whose name was really Tom Riddle. She knew everything he had done and everything he planned to do, and answered Prue's every question. She told Prue of his hatred for Albus Dumbledore (a great wizard, and yes, young Albus Severus's namesake) and how his wounded pride had led him to cursing the Dark Arts position. And eventually, after some more prodding from Prue, she confided what Harry Potter had done to stop him. Mrs. Scamander had a first-hand account for most of her stories, excepting Harry Potter's first year. Prue came back to her office every chance she got before the end of term to hear more. She lost the tenuous hold on the early friendships she had gained, but that only meant that she could spend more time talking to Mrs. Scamander and researching on her own.

At first she researched the recent war, but she was getting a more comprehensive knowledge from her Defense teacher than any text. She moved on to researching curse-breaking, a subject anyone who saw her studying told her was out of her league. Again, she got her most valuable knowledge from Mrs. Scamander.

"I don't understand why no one is doing anything," Prue said. She knew she was whining, but she was irritable after another late night studying. "I asked Mr. Flitwick about the cursed position, and he acted like a new teacher every year for fifty years was just a coincidence."

Mrs. Scamander had poured herself a cup of tea, but apparently she was dissatisfied with the result because she poured the cup's contents back in the pot and tried again. She said, "Adults are more susceptible to Gribblywinks than children. Mr. Flitwick believes what he told you is true."

"Gribblywinks?" Prue said, testing the phrase to see if she'd heard correctly. At her teacher's serene nod, she asked, "What are Gribblywinks?"

"Gribblywinks hide things for wizards, not that many wizards appreciate the favor. They can't help but hide themselves too, you see."

"If no one can see them, how do you know they exist?"

"I didn't say no one could see them, Prue, only that they hid themselves."

"Oh. Well, how can _you_ see them?"

Her teacher took a sip of her tea, while pouring the rest of the pot in a plant by her desk. She said, "Have you ever heard of Threstrals, Prue?"

Prue thought about it, knowing that even though the question seemed random to Prue, her teacher expected a real answer. "I think I've seen the name before— in a list. Isn't it a kind of horse, like a Granian?"

"That's right, but Threstrals only look like they are related to Granians. They are a completely different type of magical creature." She finished her tea, then hummed at it and showed it to Prue.

Prue peered into the cup, even though she sometimes wished her teacher would get to the point faster. The tea leaves inside were grouped together in a recognizable image. "Is that a horse?"

"A Threstral." She corrected kindly, taking the cup back. "The reason you don't know much about Threstrals, is that wizards consider them a bad omen. Some even considered them spirits before the Ministry organized more fully and was able to document them."

Prue let her teacher clean up the tea things, but then prodded the conversation along. "Why were thestrals considered a bad omen?"

"Because thestrals were made by Death. They only eat dead creatures' flesh and can only be seen by those who have seen death."

"Oh. I can see why that would make people uncomfortable."

"It is not their fault, Prue. Thestrals are kind and intelligent. They pull the school carriages that many people call horseless. They serve wizards' needs but are hardly acknowledged."

"Like Gribblywinks," Prue said. She had learned that she had to make the connection herself, or the conversation would never get back on track.

"Yes, like Gribblywinks. They can't be seen either, unless you notice them before your magical core has fully developed."

"How do I notice them, then? I don't want to be like Flitwick."

"Professor Flitwick," Professor Scamander corrected.

Prue nodded, blushing.

"Gribblywinks love hidden things. They get very upset when something hidden is revealed, and for a moment flock around the hidden thing. Sometimes, a few of them get so upset that they forget to hide themselves. If your magical core is pliable enough, it will adjust to their presence, and once you know to look for them, you can find them."

"I've revealed disillusioned feathers in charms class before. I've never seen them."

"That's not so upsetting. It's the big things that get them riled up."

Prue considered that, then said, "How did you first see them?"

"I saw new magic uncovered often when I was young. It was four times before I noticed, and that was when Gribblywinks were at their most frantic."

"So I have to watch people make up new spells, or make up some of my own."

"Don't, Prue. There is too much that can go wrong if you don't know what you're doing. Magic can be dangerous, and you might uncover something that gets you killed."

Prue looked down from her teacher's uncharacteristically focused gaze, and said, "How am I going to see Gribblywinks, then?"

"Keep an eye out whenever something hidden is revealed," Mrs. Scamander said, wiggling her fingers by her head for emphasis. "It may take a while, but you're only eleven. You have time."

"I'm going to miss you next year, Professor Scamander. I don't think I'll learn as much from anyone as I have from you."

"This is your first year learning magic, so there was more for me to teach."

Prue tilted her head noncommittally. "Still… This curse should be broken."

"I would still be leaving if there were no curse. Lorcan and Lysander need to be taught Defense by someone other than their mother."

"And instead we're going to be taught by people who don't know what they're doing. Unexperienced teachers every single year." Riled by her own words, Prue said, "It can't go on."

The Professor smiled. "Voldemort was a very powerful wizard, Prue. It's safer to leave the curse until it loses power on its own."

"How long will that take?"

"Maybe a hundred years or so. Generally curse-lives are dependent on the power of the wizard and the intent they put into the spell. Voldemort was very powerful, but the curse on the position was probably only a passing action. I'll teach every other year until it's gone."

"You'll teach for a hundred years?" Prue said, raising her eyebrows.

"Wizards live longer than Muggles. Most can make it to two hundred if they try."

"That's silly."

"Magic doesn't often make much sense. Don't worry over it so much."

Prue was shooed out of the office. Mrs. Scamander wanted her to head to dinner, but she had too much on her mind to eat. She looked in the book about curse-breaking that she had begun bringing everywhere with her and read it over again.

Prue stole a book from Hogwarts. It wasn't really stealing, she told herself- she planned on bringing it back. Her thievery, not that it was stealing, was in the name of her continuing research on curse-breaking. She couldn't just put that on hold over the summer, not when she was actually starting to get a handle on the principles. Before she had left school, Prue had placed a curse on a plant and broken it without having to resort to the countercurse. Her small success had thrilled her, but breaking one of her own curses was only the first and simplest step.

To break a curse you had to be able see it. To see a curse you had to be able to see magic. Learning to see magic was like trying to see colors outside of the visible spectrum, but Prue did it. She taught herself to concentrate and wish and see flares of magic even when they weren't active spells like those used in duels. Although most magic appeared in wavering glimmers, her own familiar signature came through clear. She couldn't be satisfied with that. Every day she worked and learned and practiced, and every day the glimmers got a little steadier.

Her mother was a witch, so Prue briefly considered asking her for help. She threw away the idea almost immediately. Curse breaking was laughably out of the league of a soon-to-be second year, and Prue wouldn't enjoy looking silly when she told her mother what she was up to. Besides, her mother was Wandless, a witch officially integrated into muggle life and removed from magical society. Whatever advice she might be able to give Prue wasn't enough when she could no longer cast a curse herself.

When, halfway through vacation, Prue had decided she had gotten as far with theory as she could go, she went looking for something cursed. Sighting curses didn't require her to actually use magic. It was the breaking that would get her caught by the trace.

Prue lived close enough to Diagon Alley, over across the Muggle divide, that she could safely visit as if she were a Muggle walking to school. She gave her parents the excuse that she wanted to buy school supplies, then made her way to the Alley and spent her day trying to catch sight of the green haze that surrounded something cursed.

One witch had cursed her own hair. When Prue saw the halo of green around her temple and the moving zigzags that netted the strands of perfectly straight hair, she couldn't resist the opportunity given to her. A simple self-applied cosmetic curse wouldn't have any nasty backlash. It was the exact next step needed to practice. After following, studying, sighting, for two minutes, Prue flicked her wand at the woman's head. The hair immediately sprung in all directions in a curly poof, and the woman ducked into the nearest alley to reapply the curse.

Prue ran home and waited for the letter from the trace office to come, wondering what her punishment would be but giddy all the same. The letter never came. Prue concluded that her bit of magic was muffled by the magical activity of the alley. Afterwards, she went back every chance she got, when her parents would agree to take her or when they were out, whether they knew about her trip or whether they did not. As she attempted to break more curses, she grew more confident. She knew every page of her stolen, scratch that, borrowed book. She knew more about curses than was necessary in the life of an average witch. Still, she pushed herself into working on more complicated and stubborn curses. She had to improve in little increments because, when trying to break worse curses, she could expect worse backlash if she failed. The weekend before her birthday, Prue treated herself by exchanging her grudgingly earned allowance money at Gringotts and taking a look at their defensive Curses.

Somehow, a goblin caught her and she was banned from Gringotts for a hundred years. And she got a thorough talking to. Mrs. Scamander and Headmistress McGonagall also came to have a sit down with her parents, who grounded her for a hundred years.

As the Headmistress and her parents had their talk, Mrs. Scamander pulled Prue aside.

"I have to ask for the book back now, Prudence."

Prue gulped, and said, "The book?"

"The books at Hogwarts have enchantments on them that signal when a library book is taken out of the school. Madam Prince wanted me to get it from you right away, but I told her not to worry. You made me regret vouching for you, Prue. I thought you were responsible."

Prue flushed, and nodded. "I didn't know the goblins would get so angry."

"I suspect you've done more than just look at curses, Prue." She said. "You can't try magic you aren't ready for. I told you it was dangerous."

Prue looked down, and for the first time during her scoldings, her eyes started to sting. She looked up, trying to ignore how tight her throat was but unable to respond.

Mrs. Scamander said, "Get the book."

Prue hurried up the stairs to her room, finding the place where she'd left it easily. She had read the book a thousand times anyway. There was no reason she needed to keep it.

As Mrs. Scamander accepted the book from Prue, she said, "I'll take it back to Hogwarts myself and I won't tell anyone my suspicions, but you have to be more careful."

Prue nodded, but just as Mrs. Scamander was turning away, she said, "I should return it."

Her favorite teacher turned back to her.

Prue continued, "I took it, so I should return it. I'm sorry. I should have listened to you."

Mrs. Scamander considered her, then said, "Mrs. Prince is still at Hogwarts. Will you apologize to her as well?"

Prue nodded.

"If you come with me, I'll have to tell your parents about the book."

Prue winced, but said, "I know."

Her mother's face got even redder after Mrs. Scamander was done. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before settling on saying, "No wonder the goblins thought you were planning to rob them. I didn't raise you to be a thief, Prudence."

Her father pulled his head out of his hand and said, "Let her go. Maybe apologizing will keep her from being banned from the library for a hundred years too."

So Prue was side-along apparated to Hogsmede, a small village from which you could walk to Hogwarts. She was taken through Hogwarts' gates, after which she returned the book and apologized to Mrs. Prince with tears in her eyes.

As soon as Prue was alone in her room again, she stopped the waterworks, already planning her way back to Hogwarts.


	2. The Curse Breaker

Prue's parents left for work after telling her they would call to make sure she didn't get up to anything during her grounding. She kept that in mind as she began her hike to the Leaky Cauldron.

Prue didn't have enough money to buy a portkey to Hogsmede, so she altered her plan. She bought Floo powder. She had to give up two of her three galleons for a bag of it, but she only needed a pinch. Another sickle went to gaining access to a public Floo. Prue spared a sad thought for the death of her savings, then pocketed her remaining sickles. She pretended she was with a family that came by until she threw the powder in, stepped into the green flames, and called out Hogsmede. An hour after she had left home, Prue arrived at the only village with a path to Hogwarts.

In another half-hour she made it to the Hogwarts gates, where she came to a stop. As she had confirmed the day before, the curse was a green haze over the castle doors. It was simpler than the ones she had briefly glimpsed at Gringotts. It had more fingers and pulsed like a heartbeat, but it was only made by one man, one human man. It extended down the path all the way to the front gates, attaching partially to the wards. She could access it from where she stood.

Prue got to work, confident in her abilities. She had been the top of her class before she had started spending all her time on curse-breaking. She analyzed the tremors of the haze, trying to detect a key vein that would give away how held onto the school. However much trouble she got in for this, she was going to be happy with herself. The other students would thank her too.

Ten minutes later, one of Prue's searching prods struck gold and the curse pulsed bright green. Suddenly, its conditions seemed clear. Prue gasped, stepping back and pulling her mind away before she was overwhelmed. She wouldn't get another rest once she actually started breaking the curse.

A blue dot the size of her thumb appeared before her. It was a creature, holding itself to gate and watching her work. When it realized that she was staring back at it, its mouth dropped open. Prue smiled and said hello. It opened its mouth wider and let loose a buzzing sound, and in a blink it was gone. Prue laughed, thinking of what Mrs. Scamander had told her. She had kept an eye out for Gribblywinks when hidden things were revealed, but she only caught a glimpse of one when she was busy trying to break a curse. Prue would have to pursue it later, but her discovery gave her a giddy confidence.

Sure that she understood the curse, Prue set about breaking it. The next part was theory, but Prue already had experience successfully putting curse-breaking book knowledge into action. She reached out and touched the curse. It had been active fifty years, so she had to pull all its fingers together before her. She delicately rolled back the fog of each strand, and it condensed into a single string that led from the gate to the castle doors. The string retreated no farther, so Prue hesitated and frowned. She had thought she would have the entire curse at the gate by that stage. She pulled at the string, but it didn't move.

Prue looked doubtfully at the string in her left hand and the wand in her right. She couldn't just let it go, it would snap back at her, and she didn't think giving another tug was a good idea. Prue put her wand between her teeth and called out for the other end of the string with her right hand. The string released from the door and sailed to her, so Prue snatched her wand out of her mouth again, readying herself to use it. There was a pull in her left hand. A curse could slip out of someone's grip, but Prue had never heard of it pulling itself. She kept her grip tight, even as the errant end of the string attached itself to the gate.

Tiny localized spots on Prue's clothes and hair begun to pull back from the gate. Prue didn't know what the Gribblywinks were trying to do, but they were only serving to distract her. And she needed to focus. The body of the string had not collapsed like she'd intended. Instead it shortened, by its own power, to better form itself into a circle. The curse end Prue held tried to wrench away and join its opposite, and her clenched fist jerked forward and hit the gate. A Gribblywink buzzed incessantly in her left ear as the others continued their pulling. The curse started to slip from Prue's grasp. She didn't know if the pain that bloomed in her palm was from the string cutting into her hand or her own nails. There was no time to think. Prue brought up her wand and broke the string.

A shatter of green blinded her, and Prue shuttered her perception of the curse to get away from the painful light. It should be broken. She should be done. The string dissolved from her hand, but something pulled her toward the gate. The Gribblywinks had not stopped pulling at her in the other direction, but a stronger force had gotten its hold on her hands. Prue thought she might see two strings wrapped around her wrists if she was brave enough to check despite the blinding light.

One of Prue's fingers touched the gate. Instead of pressing against metal, it disappeared in the air. More than one little voice buzzed in Prue's ears, but she still couldn't see them. Prue's hand holding her wand disappeared into the gate, and her feet scrambled against the dirt. There was no give for her to work with, only a relentless tug. Prue was up to her armpits in the gate, and she screamed for help along with the buzzes of the Gribblywinks. Then, all the hands dropped away from her, except the one tugging her ear, and she fell through the gate.

Prue fell to the ground with a wordless exclamation. The metal of a gate dinged when her shoes hit its bars on the way down. Prue couldn't see. An agonizing second passed before she realized that her eyes were adjusting to the sudden light of day.

The hazy figure of an adult stomped towards Prue as she tried to blink her vision back to normal. He said, "Who are you?"

The man's anger made Prue scoot back even as she tried to orient herself. Her back hit cool metal, and she looked over her shoulder. Hogwarts?

The man took advantage of Prue's distraction. In a flash, he had grabbed her wrist and pulled her up. He said, "Were you following me?"

His grip tightened like a vice as he loomed over her. Instead of an answer, Prue cried out for help. She could hardly tell what was happening, but she knew she wanted to get away. The man brought out his wand. A loud buzz and tug on Prue's ear made her duck just before a spell flew over her head and rung the gate. Prue pushed at the hand trapping her, simultaneously trying to tug herself away. The man gripped her wrist harder and snarled some kind of command, then shook Prue. She threw out her arm to grab the gate and steady herself as her back smashed into metal bars. The Gribblywink's buzz rose to a shriek. Its grip on her ear tightened to a sharp pinch.

Suddenly, it was dark again. The man was gone. The gate was still at her back. The buzz had stopped. Prue waited, panting, for her eyes to adjust to the dark as she put her arms around herself. Something light but present pulled down on a small section of hair on the right side of her head. Prue shakily touched her hand to her ear, feeling where the Gribblywink had pinched. It still hurt, but Prue was distracted by a light tickle of a tiny hand against her pinky. She cupped her hand horizontally. After a moment, something tumbled into her palm. Slowly, carefully, Prue kept her hand level and brought it in front of her face. There, in her palm, was a blue Gribblywink. Its little pixie-like body was lying prone, and she thought she could see it panting in the darkness. The fingertip Prue had touched to her ear had come back bloody, but she couldn't really blame the Gribblywink for that.

"You aren't invisible anymore," Prue said, still dull from shock.

She waited for the Gribblywink to recover and stand, but it only curled up under her gaze. It made a high pitched buzz. After a moment of being startled, Prue realized that it was rocking itself and crying. She gasped and looked away, but its tears brought her own spilling out. She could assume that it preferred being invisible, if what Mrs. Scamander had told her was accurate. For some reason it couldn't hide itself from Prue, and there was a good chance that it was her fault. She started blubbering.

It took her a long time to get out words, between her stutters and sobs. "I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know if you can understand me, but I'm sorry. I should have listened to Mrs. Scamander. I only thought, I was sure I could do it. I don't know what happened… You and your friends tried to warn me didn't you?"

At the mention of the other Gribblywinks, the buzzing wail got louder. Prue didn't know how to comfort it. It didn't want to be looked at, but it had climbed into her palm. She tried to swallow her tears in order to keep talking. "What happened? That man- I think he was going to hurt me. And you… you hid me from him didn't you?" Prue stared sightlessly into the darkness as the light touch on her hand shifted about. "I don't know what that took, but thank you. Really, thank you. I don't think I can repay you, I don't know how, but I'll help you if I can."

Prue took a quiet minute to get a hold of herself. She had an easier time of it when the buzzing finally petered off. Still, she didn't dare look at the Gribblywink again to check if it was really getting better. She surveyed the castle, then took a chance and looked for the curse. No green spots emerged in her vision. Prue stood, cupping her hand and holding it to her body so the Gribblywink wouldn't fall off. She banged on the gate with her left hand and called out for someone to let her in. After a couple minutes of the same, her hand was sore and her voice was hoarse.

She stopped and said, more to herself than the Gribblywink, "I don't know what's going on. I can't stay out here. It's freezing."

Something tugged her ear, and it took all Prue's self-control to keep from jumping. She glanced down to her cupped hand, trying not to move her head. The Gribblywink was gone. Prue ran her left pointer finger gently along her palm to make sure it hadn't just turned invisible again, then dropped her hand. The one pulling her ear was the same one as before. He must have recovered while she was banging on the gate.

The pulling on her ear continued, and the light buzzing started up again.

Prue said, "I'm sorry. I don't know what you want. All I can hear is buzzing."

It could have just been wind, but she thought she felt the Gribblywink brush against her hair. Then it was in front of her face.

Prue said, "Oh, hello."

The Gribblywink wrung its four tiny hands and looked down.

"Sorry, I won't look."

Prue turned her head, but a loud buzz had her looking back. The Gribblywink was still wringing two hands, but with one of the others, it pointed at the path to Hogsmede.

"You wanted me to follow you?"

The Gribblywink crossed its arms, looking blankly at her for a moment before nodding.

"I guess I should listen to you."

The Gribblywink nodded and pointed again, but it had its back turned to her.

Prue said, "You can go back to pulling my ear. I know you don't like me looking at you."

Prue watched the Gribblywink turn before looking away. Soon, she felt its barely-there weight land on the top of her ear. She kept her head as still as possible as it tugged her ear forward, toward the path to Hogsmede.

Prue set off, walking through the dark forest path instead of running like she had previously. As the Gribblywink pulled her steadily past tall, night darkened trees, Prue babbled to distract herself from the unidentifiable noises and shadows within. "I'm sure you'll get invisible again soon. You probably just tired yourself out," Prue said. She waited for the Gribblywink to give some response, but none came. "I do wonder about that sometimes with my own magic – if I can exhaust myself using it, I mean. I've never got tired from spellwork before, but I think magic has to come from _somewhere_." She considered what she'd said, while resolutely ignoring the crackles and hoots filling the silence. "I don't know why I never asked anyone about it before. I should have done that instead of spending all my time on curses. It would have been the smart thing to do. That _is_ what I should do – the first thing when I get back. I'll ask my mother about magical exhaustion. And I'm sure Mrs. Scamander will know how to help you. It'll be alright, you'll see."

The Gribblywink pet her ear. Prue supposed that while he understood her perfectly, his little voice just couldn't make English words. She said, "Well, I'll probably have to wait until after my parents yell at me a while. I knew that they would when I came out here. And they're going to tell me I was reckless and stupid and overbold. And I won't even be able to defend myself because they're right… It's just that I thought…" Feeling herself slide back into a slump, Prue said, "You're probably bored listening to me talk to myself. We should work out a system so we can have a conversation… We can start with yes and no. One buzz for yes, two buzzes for no. Do you understand me?"

The Gribblywink on her ear gave an answering buzz. It tickled a little, and Prue gave a smile even though the Gribblywink probably couldn't see it.

She said, "Do you want me to go back to the castle?"

The response was two buzzes and a tug on Prue's ear toward Hogsmede.

"Right. Neither do I. We have to get back to Hogsmede. I still have floo powder left, and a few sickles. If we get home fast enough, maybe my parents won't even know I was gone." Prue wasn't sure she would mind her parents being home when she got back, though. She tried not to wonder why no one had discovered her yet, and why no one had answered her knocking on Hogwarts' gate. Or who that man was, and what everything that had happened meant. But she couldn't help noticing that the path under her feet was made of dirt, not the stone she remembered from her earlier run. And where were the Gribblywink's friends, and why wasn't he with them? She pushed aside her worries for when she got to Hogsmede. If Prue got home alright after everything, she might just confess anyway from relief.

Prue played a game of twenty questions with the Gribblywink. He seemed happy to participate, which made Prue at least assured that he didn't hate her for getting him into trouble. The game was calming until Prue asked, "Did I break the curse?" and the Gribblywink answered 'no.'

Dreading the response, Prue asked, "Is the curse still there?" She had to be sure.

In answer, the Gribblywink gave a tap on Prue's ear instead of making his usual buzzes. They hadn't worked out what a tap meant, but Prue thought she could understand what he wanted.

She rephrased. "Is the curse still on the Defence position?" At another _tap_, Prue rephrased again, choosing her words carefully. "I didn't see a curse on the gate. Does a curse against the Defence against the Dark Arts Position at Hogwarts exist right now?"

_Two buzzes._ No.

"Is right now what I think it is?"

_Tap. _Rephrase.

"Did you bring me back to the same night I started at when you hid me?"

_Two buzzes. _


	3. The Time Traveler

Prudence headed towards Hogsmede village at a stiff walking pace. She held herself back from running for the sake of the creature perched delicately on her ear, but she'd stopped talking to it after it had expressed its understanding of the past hour's events. Its insistence that it had _hidden her in time _was a theory that had yet to be confirmed. Never mind the suspicions she'd had even before it had buzzed its worrying… theories.

It was hard to stay objective when she finally got to the end of the dirt trail and spotted Hogsmede village. Some change had come over the usually welcoming place. Buildings that should have been nestled cozily together in a winding arrangement were scattered and weathered and dark. Paths and buildings she knew well were absent or unrecognizable, and most of the buildings looked like hut-like homes instead of shops. Prue took a few steps closer despite the tugging on her ear that meant the Gribblywink was trying to get her attention. She stood before a Hogsmede that she should have only been able to see in her History class. It looked like it had never been touched by the Civil War and subsequent reconstruction projects. She couldn't explain that any other way than what the Gribblywink had buzzed about. She had to accept it.

The Gribblywink gave up on gentle tugs and pinched Prue's ear again. It didn't hurt as much as the first time, but it did break her out of her stupor. Some people were still out in the village, and one had stopped moving to peer in her direction. In the night, she probably looked like a black smudge at the edge of the forest. Prudence didn't want to step any closer. She felt like interacting with people would make her situation permanent. Unfortunately, the Gribblywink tugged her ear forward. He had some plan, and he obviously knew better than her.

When Prudence had made a plan of action, she'd wanted to get to Hogsmede to use the floo network. Instead, the Gribblywink led her straight through. He tugged insistently until she walked into the dark fields beyond the village. Tall grass clung like some kind of magical barrier begging her not to leave, but she pushed her way away from light and civilization. Prue continued on, putting her trust in a magical creature in spite of the stories warning her against doing just that. The Gribblywink had saved her from the unhinged man at the gates. He must know how to lead her somewhere safe.

Soon after losing sight of the village lights, Prudence began crying. Something about the moonless night and endless fields just made her feel like she was in some surreal nightmare. Still, the need to keep moving made her turn off her mind and stop the tears. The Gribblywink helped. All Prudence had to do was walk whichever way he told her to. Hours passed before Prudence came back to herself and began rethinking the Gribblywink's apparent good will. She was exhausted, and she still didn't see anything but more flat land. Maybe the Gribblywink had decided to lead her in circles. Why wouldn't he still be mad at her? Maybe he wanted her to suffer.

Eventually the fields retreated, replaced by sparse, non-magical grass. Prue felt wound tight to the edge of tears. She didn't know how long she had been awake or how long she had been walking, and she didn't have the will to reckon the hours. Her mind was a muddle. Each step over the increasingly uneven ground was a victory. The morning broke, which Prudence wasn't aware of until she had stumbled right up to the edge of a town.

She wanted to throw herself into the arms of the first person she saw, but just when she'd spotted an early riser, she felt a hasty, harder tug on her ear. Almost automatically, she kept her mouth shut and followed the direction. The Gribblywink led her by her ear to the front of an old brick building, then started buzzing. Prue looked wearily up. A sturdy sign had been placed in front of the three-story structure.

Reading the name on the sign, Prudence said, "Saint Catherine's Orphanage?" She started crying again, from exhaustion more than anything. "Why did you bring me _here_? I'm not an orphan. I have a mum and a dad. I want _them_. I want to go _home_." Suddenly, Prue's legs were too weak to hold her up. She sank to the ground and leaned forward on her hands. She tried to decide whether to push herself up or just rest for a while.

As her breathing continued growing sharper and shallower, the Gribblywink brushed its hand against her ear in a gesture of comfort. The tickle got through.

"Why didn't you lead me home, Gribblywink?" Prue said. "I'm tired. I just want to go home." She felt another tug, and looked up. The Gribblywink wanted her to go into the Orphanage.

Prue tightened her hand into a fist and hit the ground, then pushed herself up. Her legs wobbled as she stood, but she aimed her lurching steps forward. She only stumbled for the first few. Although her sore feet awakened to renew their complaints and her breathing didn't return to a steady rhythm, Prue made it to the door. She knocked.

The Matron of the orphanage seemed to decide that Prue was in shock. She gave Prue a blanket and tended to her blistered feet and only asked Prue questions very gently, even though she asked a lot.

Prue interrupted the matron. A question had occurred to her, and it seemed vitally important to do it right then. "What day is it?"

The matron smiled sadly at her, then said, "It's the first day of July, Dearie." She crouched down beside the plush chair Prue sat in. "Do you feel up to telling me what happened now? I'd really like that."

Prue looked away, instead concentrating on her hands as she kneaded the cloth of the too-small blanket the matron had given her.

The matron said, "If you tell me what happened, I can help you."

Prue didn't think the matron could help her. She wasn't magic, and even if she was, a witch wouldn't know how to travel _forward _in time. Prue took a steadying breath, but a tear escaped anyway. She said, "What year is it?"

After a moment's pause, the woman said, "Oh dear." Then she said, "Look here, dearie. I want to see your eyes for a moment."

Prue didn't want the woman to see her red eyes. She turned her face away.

The woman's tone became firmer. "This is important, now. Look here, so I can make sure you're all right." While Prue debated her options, the woman said. "I'll tell you the year if you let me see your eyes."

Well, Prue thought that was a stupid bribe. She could learn the date anywhere, if she just went outside the orphanage. Yet it had Prue turning her head to meet the matron's focused gaze.

Businesslike, the matron raised a finger in front of Prue's face, and said, "Watch my finger, now." She moved her hand left and right, up and down. When that was done, she looked at Prue with an inscrutable expression. "Thank you for helping me, dear. You're doing really well." Prue just stared at her, waiting, so she said, "It's nineteen thirty-eight."

Prue mostly shut down after that. She answered vaguely or with a murmured lie or not at all. In the end, she told the Matron that she couldn't remember where she had come from. Prue had broken a lot of rules, but she wasn't going to break the statute of secrecy.

After the first day, during which she slept, recovered, and cried, she got a new name, Prue Smith. She let herself be comforted by the sympathetic pats and buzzes of the Gribblywink, who, once a week passed without his own name, allowed Prue to call him Buzz. Prue didn't make any effort to befriend the other children at the orphanage, and they in turn learned to leave her to her brooding. Some of them asked how she'd gotten to a Scottish orphanage if she was British, but Prue told them it was none of their business.

It was dull and depressing in the orphanage, and Prue hated it. She would have left if she'd had somewhere else to go. Buzz must not have had anywhere else to go either. Otherwise, why would he stay? She knew she was no good company. She didn't talk about what she'd done except to apologize. A month of that went by, and Prue learned a new signal from Buzz. Two tickling touches against her head meant, _It's okay_.

Prue had no idea if there was a way for her to get back home, but she doubted she'd ever be able to find it even if there was. She had time-traveled further than should have been possible, by accident, not by any recorded method, and she didn't expect the wizards in 1938 to be any help when those in 2017 would have been at a loss. She certainly didn't think she was witch enough to work it out. Prue decided she was glad that she'd never really made best friends at Hogwarts. It would only have given her more people to miss besides her mother and father – and Mrs. Scamander with her rambling talks.

Even though Prue knew she had no hope figuring out exactly what had happened when she'd tried to break the curse, she couldn't help thinking about it. She knew Tom Riddle had put the curse on Hogwarts, and that Tom Riddle was Voldemort. She knew that Voldemort killed everyone he didn't like. That man she'd met in front of the gate was Voldemort. Buzz had saved her from Voldemort. When Prue apologized to the Gribblywink again, she got two tickling touches against her head.

Buzz stayed against her ear most of the time. Prue was selfishly glad that she didn't have to go through the orphanage alone and took every opportunity she could get alone to talk to Buzz. When she didn't have chores to do or activities arranged, she tried to teach him how to write. He wasn't very good at it, but that was probably because he was too tiny to use any writing implement with grace. They'd also play hide and seek together. Buzz was a lot better at it than she was but seemed to love finding her anyway. Prue told herself to stop thinking about regrets for all hours of the day, and eventually, she let herself settle into a muggle life.

On August twentieth, a month and a half after she'd arrived in 1938, a man came to the orphanage looking for Prue. She'd been put on the list for Hogwarts under the name Prue Smith.

Prue waited impatiently for September first. The invitation to Hogwarts had given her new hope, and she never wanted to see dingy walls and unhappy faces again. After the scholarship-sponsored trip to Diagon Alley, every so often she would take out the new wand she had gotten from Olivanders and compare it to her old one. The wand Olivander had described as "dense" was short, plain, and made of some sickly-looking grey oak. Its core was troll's hair. Apparently, the wand didn't care that Prudence thought it was unappealing. When she'd flicked the wand, a cloud of blue dust had puffed out of the end, and Prudence had been forced to accept it. Prue couldn't help but think that it reflected badly on her prospects.

When the day finally came for her escape, Prudence went through all the same motions in getting to Hogwarts that she'd made during her _first_ first year. Sure, she had only ever used the King's Cross Station entrance to platform nine and three quarters, but the Queen Mary's station entrance worked the same way. The platform and train, unlike Diagon Alley, looked exactly as she remembered. The only changes in the process were the people. Instead of Old Man Hagrid calling them off the trains and leading them to the boat, it was a man named Professor Turnpin. Instead of Professor Longbottom greeting them at the castle, it was a woman named Professor Filch. Instead of Minerva McGonagall, welcoming them to Hogwarts before the sorting, the Headmaster was a puttering old man named Armando Dippet.

Once again in the Great Hall, waiting to be sorted, Prue had to think about how strange a turn her life had taken. She had messed up so profoundly that she'd lost everything she'd known, yet she'd still managed to return to Hogwarts. Prudence had to hold back a grin upon feeling homely comfort for the first time in almost two months. She had to be serious. She wasn't going to think of magic as the harmless fun she'd thought of it as her first time around.

Prudence hadn't been the only one affected by her mistake. Buzz had been pulled down with her, literally, and thinking about it gave her a pang of guilt. His situation was even worse than hers. Prue had her magic and had been given a chance to reset at Hogwarts, but Buzz hadn't recovered from whatever he'd done to save her. He couldn't turn invisible, and he couldn't turn anything else invisible, the hallmarks of his kind. The first chance she got, Prue planned to find out more about Gribblywinks and see if there was a way to help her friend.

The sorting hat began its introductory song of the Hogwarts houses. Prue brought her pointer finger up to her ear so Buzz could hold it while he tittered happily. Since it looked slightly odd, she couldn't stand that way for long. She reluctantly pretended to brush her fingers through her hair and brought her hand down.

Professor Filch pulled out a scroll. He said, "Flynn, Merle"

The girl who skittered up to the stool was sorted into Ravenclaw, and the first sorting of forty was done. Prue clapped along with everyone else as each new student joined their house table, even though her heart wasn't really in it. The sorting just didn't seem as important as it had the first time around.

Then, after Calisto Wormheart was sorted into Slytherin, Professor Filch called out, "Riddle, Tom."

He was just another first year, slightly thin, dark-haired and pale. No one paid him any special attention except Prue. She didn't know why she felt tense for the ten seconds the hat was on his head; she knew what house he was going to. The hat called out Slytherin as expected, and Tom Riddle walked expressionlessly to the Slytherin table. Breathing again, Prudence deliberately refocused on the stool as if nothing had happened.

Professor Filch said, "Daily, Acadia."

Acadia was sorted into Gryffindor. Five names later, after Juniper Frederickson was sorted into Hufflepuff, Prue heard her own name called.

She walked up to the stool and sat down robotically. Prue had already been through this, but she still had to close her eyes once the hat was over her head.

Unlike the last time, a voice appeared in her mind. _"I can't sort both of you."_

It took Prue a second to realize that he was talking about Buzz. Luckily, Buzz must have heard too because she felt him drop out from his place on top of her ear and settle in the back of her hair.

"_That's better,"_ The hat said. _"This process is complicated enough as it is without another mind occluding things."_

"_Complicated? You've already sorted me into Ravenclaw," _Prue thought back. She hoped she had done it right.

Apparently she had because the hat said, _"Ah, but you are not the same person you were when I first sorted you, and your circumstances have changed. Ravenclaw will no longer serve you as well as-" _the voice left her mind and shouted, "Slytherin!"

Wrinkled leather lifted off Prue's head. She blinked, then her eyes shifted to the table she had spent a year deriding. The Slytherins didn't seem to understand that Prue was feeling a mix of revulsion and shame. Most looked disinterested, clapping politely and whispering amongst themselves. Judging by the movement going on at the end of the table, some of the other first years were making room for their new housemate.

Prue stood from the stool and forced herself to join the Pureblood supremacists. As she took a seat between two girls who had parted for her, they said some form of congratulations, but Prue was too busy thinking about why the Hat would possibly believe she belonged with them to care. She gave them a slight smile so she wouldn't have to say anything. That satisfied them enough they turned back to watch the next sorting. Prue didn't even hear the name. She stared at the empty plate in front of her until the last student was sorted and food appeared at the table.

The start of the welcoming feast forced Prue out of her head. She may not have liked her sorting, but she wasn't going to sabotage herself by giving everyone around her the cold shoulder. She'd made a promise to herself that she was going to redo her first year right, and if that meant that she had to act friendly to a group of people she hated, then that's what she was going to do.

Prue smiled at the girl to the left of her, who was scooping up mashed potatoes to put on her plate. "Can you pass that, please?"

"Sure," said the girl. "They look great, don't they?"

Prudence nodded, but she was still having a hard time finding the words for polite conversation.

Another girl across the table saved her. "If you're Irish, maybe," she said with the slightest scoff. She curled her lip at the potatoes and the rest of the spread. "I don't know why we can't just order from the house-elves ourselves."

Without diverting her attention from gathering food, the girl to Prudence's right said, "You're off to a great start, Roslyn. Do you always have to be so negative?"

"If they're going to expect me to grab for my dinner like a wild animal, then yes. How hard is it to direct food to a plate instead of a platter?"

"It's the first feast. Maybe we'll be able to order when we haven't just gotten here."

That seemed reasonable enough to Prudence, even though she knew it wasn't true. But Roslyn seemed to have gotten stuck in a rant. "And how long did we have to stand around for that sorting? The hat almost stalled on Liana Bode, but everyone knew she was going into Hufflepuff. I swear it dragged things out on purpose."

"Honestly, the way you talk, you'd think you'd been put in Azkaban. Do you remember happiness, enjoyment?"

Roslyn gave an offended gasp. She leaned forward. "If I'm in Azkaban, then you're a Dementor."

The other girl matched her. Prudence had to stop herself from watching their escalating fight like a tennis match. It was amazing how easily the others at the table ignored it. The Ravenclaw table had never been so at odds. They were usually too grounded to get into fights about… absolutely nothing.

Luckily, the girl to Prudence's left seemed just as disinterested in fighting as her, although she looked the opposite of shocked. She tilted her head towards Prudence confidentially. "They'll be like that for a while. I should probably introduce myself while we have time." She held out her hand. "Calisto Wormheart. And that's Ellery Burke and Roslyn Rookwood. I'm sure they'd introduce themselves if they hadn't forgotten their manners."

Prudence didn't really know what to say, so she picked the safest option. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Prudence Smith."

Calisto smiled and opened her mouth to say more.

"Smith?" Ellery said, breaking out of her conversation with Roslyn mid-insult. "Aren't you usually Hufflepuffs?"

"I suppose that's why you look so surprised," said Roslyn.

Prue shook her head, having learned that Gribblywink was perfectly capable of staying in place no matter what she did. She said, "I think you're thinking of a different Smith family."

"Oh," Ellery said. "I didn't know there were other Smiths,"

"Unless you aren't pureblood," Calisto said.

An older boy sitting next to Roslyn said, "Of course she is. She's in Slytherin isn't she?"

"She could be a Halfblood, Marcus," Calisto insisted.

Marcus curled up his lip at that. It dawned on Prue that she really had been sorted into the evil house. But she'd never been mean to Magicborns. She'd gone to school in the muggle world when she was younger. Why was she with these people? Was it because of what she'd done to Gribblywink? He'd said he'd forgiven her, but maybe the hat considered her no good. Prue started to feel a lump form in her throat, even though she thought she was done with crying. She focused hard on the conversation continuing around her.

Marcus said, "You didn't answer, Smith. What's your status?"

Prue gulped down her emotions. "I don't know. I never knew my parents."

"Never?" Ellery said. "Then where did you live?" She seemed genuinely confused.

Prue tried not to narrow her eyes in suspicion. At least she was distracted. She said, "In an orphanage."

"An orphanage?" Ellery's eyes glazed as she thought. "Oh, you mean those houses muggle families dump their children in. How'd you end up there?"

Prue couldn't believe the girl didn't know. Bluntly, she said, "My parents died."

Calisto broke in. "Wait, so you grew up with Muggles?"

"How horrible," Roslyn said.

Another first year boy joined in. "Her parents must not have had any family."

"I can't imagine."

Marcus said to the boy next to him, "What could have happened to them?"

"Muggles," Calisto said. "Does that mean you weren't allowed to talk to wizards?"

Prudence felt herself leaning back from the assault of questions. She shrugged tensely. "I didn't find out wizards existed until a few weeks ago."

There were a few gasps at that.

Ellery angled away from Prue a little. "You're as good as a Muggleborn, then," she said.

Marcus said, "She's probably a pureblood. She just doesn't know it."

An older girl across the table said, "Maybe she can get her blood tested. See if the ministry has her line on record."

"Didn't anyone tell you what happened to your parents?" the boy next to Marcus asked, just as someone down the table said, "What are you talking about, Susan?"

"Trying to figure out who this girl's parents are," the older girl said. "She doesn't even know how they died."

"Probably Grindlewald done them in. Have you heard what he did to the Bulgstrudes?"

"Sure, just blame everything on Grindlewald, Atticus. This would have been eleven years ago."

"She's been in an orphanage since she's been born?"

Another girl next to Atticus said, "Didn't you hear? She couldn't even go to Diagon Alley."

Well, Prue had never said that, but she couldn't correct the gossip. She'd become the talk of the table. People were asking her nonsense questions, having been given half the truth. It took all she had to answer sensibly instead of just going along with the unlikely stories they were coming up with.

A few prefects had to deliberately turn the conversation away from her origins in order for her to get a chance to eat. Everyone stopped asking her questions, but she thought she still heard some telling the story to a few that had missed the hubbub. Near the end of the feast, Calisto nudged her and whispered, "Do you know that boy? He's been staring at you for a while now."

Prue stopped eating. Calisto said, "Three seats down from you. Across the table."

Prue looked for the boy. There was no one staring at her, although she didn't think Calisto had been lying. Three seats down, across the table, sat Tom Riddle.

"All I know is he's another first year," Prue said. "He must have just heard the others talking."

"Maybe he likes you." Calisto gave her an encouraging smile.

Prue said, "I don't think so."

He was probably looking because he was interested to see how another non-pureblood was being treated. It wouldn't be an issue though. The next day, classes would start, and he would have plenty of other "Mudbloods" to analyze. As long as Prudence could ignore that she was in Slytherin with a future Dark Lord, and as long as her housemates got over her fake history, she would have her new beginning.


	4. The Orphan

Prue woke to the light ding of metal. She looked to her left side, seeing that Callisto had slid the curtains around her bed open. On Prue's other side and across the room, the three other Slytherin girls were also getting ready for the day. Prue sat up in bed, scanning exposed stone and witchlight sconces. Buzz hadn't given her his usual tap of hello.

_He doesn't have to stay with me all the time, _Prue thought_. He's probably just out because he's happy he's home. _But Buzz had only left his place on her ear when he'd had to, so she could lay down to sleep.

Prue looked out for a flash of blue as she got washed and dressed. Even when the other girls started leaving for breakfast, she hung back to rummage around. Buzz hadn't ever gotten more than a room away from her since she'd met him. She didn't know what she'd do if something had happened to him.

Calisto left last, saying, "Don't miss charms. It's at eight."

Prue nodded. "Thanks. I won't be that long."

Prue sifted through her sheets, clothes, and school supplies for a creature the size of a knut. She called for Buzz to give her a sign even if he wanted to hide. She searched until the pendulum clock on the wall read seven fifty, then had to run for the charms classroom.

She burst into class with a minute to spare, briefly returning an acknowledging smile from Calisto. The only free seat out of three long benches that ran the length of the classroom was at the middle bench's right end.

"Hiya," said a red-and-gold-tied boy as she sat next to him. "You sleep in?"

"Something like that," Prue said, watching the teacher walk in through a door from the next room.

"Well, glad to meet you. Name's Octavian West."

"Sure. Mine's Prudence." She took her wand out of her sleeve.

For the entirety of the next hour, Prue struggled to act interested. She might have been able to if the teacher had let them cast, but Prue knew first year charm theory front and back. The lesson became background noise as Prue ran through worst-case scenarios about Buzz. He was sick and couldn't answer her, or one of the other girls had caught him, or he had decided that he didn't want to stay with her anymore.

The class laughed at something the teacher had said, and Octavian smiled over at Prue. She frowned back at him.

Octavian's smile staled. "Slytherins," he muttered, as he turned to his other side.

Prue broke from her musings again at the end of class, when Calisto met her at the door.

"Hey," Prue said.

"Morning," Calisto said, frowning slightly. "You never came to breakfast."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, I got lost." Prue smiled to reassure her. "Barely got to class on time, too."

"I saw. There's a map on the back of your schedule, you know."

"Er, no. I missed that."

"It's fine. The print is too tiny to read anyway," Calisto said. As they entered a hallway divided from a courtyard with stone arches, she seemed to brighten with the flood of sunlight. "And now you have me to lead you."

Prue gave her a half-smile. "History, right?"

"I'll try to keep you awake. My sister says it's taught by a ghost that tries to bore people to death."

"It might be better to fall asleep then."

Calisto shrugged. "Might be." She pulled out an envelope from under the cover of her charms book. "This came for you at breakfast. I hope you don't mind me taking it for you. I'm not sure what would have happened to it."

Taking it, Prue frowned. "I shouldn't be getting any letters."

"I thought it was from one of your friends in the muggle world," Calisto said. She pointed at the postage stamp. "Because they stuck a queen on the envelope, see? It's a pretty picture, but I don't get why they used it up on something that you're just going to throw away. I can unstick it for you, if you like. If you want to save it."

"No, that's alright," Prue said, slipping the envelope under the cover of her own charms book. "But thanks. I'll read it later. Did anything else happen at breakfast?"

Calisto's eyes lit up. "Oh yes, you remember that boy that was watching us before? At the feast?"

_A picture in a history book, the man at the gate_, Prue thought. "…What about him?"

"I talked to him this morning."

"Why?" Prue said, heart in throat.

"Curiosity! As it turns out, you two have a lot in common. He doesn't know who his parents are either."

"I'm not going to be his friend."

Calisto slumped a little. "Why not? I think you could get along."

"He's a little odd, don't you think?"

"Well that may be a good thing, considering his upbringing. He's very restrained. You wouldn't know he hadn't been raised by a good family."

"What's he restraining?" Prue muttered.

Calisto snickered behind her hand. "Now, don't be difficult. I was thinking: You two look kind of alike don't you think? His hair is darker than yours, and he's very pale, but what if you were related? Wouldn't that be a fairy tale? Brother and sister separated at birth by the tragic disappearance of their parents and sent to live in the muggle world until their eleventh years."

"There is no way he's my brother."

Calisto laughed. "Probably not, but isn't it fun to imagine?"

"Not with him."

With a sigh, Calisto gave in. "You're difficult, you know."

Prue nodded, and she and Calisto returned to their dorm. Prue looked around her storage shelf as she retrieved her History book, but she saw no sign of Buzz.

Calisto said, "Come on. You're going to make us both late."

History was as boring as promised, leaving Prue to worry until lunch. She glanced around the Great Hall for the absent Tom Riddle. Admittedly, her developing suspicion of him didn't make sense. He had no reason to hurt Buzz.

"Are you looking for that boy again?" Calisto said. She also looked around, but her eyes lingered more on the first years present. Two of their roommates, Ellery Burke and Roslyn Rookwood, sat together with some of the older Slytherins. Prue didn't know the names of all six first-year boys, but Calisto also took a moment to look over the three of them at the table.

Prue replied, "Looking out."

Calisto frowned at her. "What do you have against him? You can't object to his heritage."

"I just get a bad feeling about him." Prue shrugged, focusing on her meal. "It's not something I can explain."

"You should have told me that sooner! A wizard must always trust their instincts."

"That's it?"

"Yes. If you feel like he's bad news, then why bother with him?" Calisto looked around and spotted the arrival of their last roommate. "Oh! Maybe I can get Aquila to sit with us. She doesn't seem to have formed an opinion about you yet."

Calisto waved the girl over, who hesitated before joining them.

"Aquila, I wanted you to meet Prue. I've been trying to get her up to speed, but she probably needs a third eye."

"Well, if last night was any indication…" Aquila said. She looked at Prue. "I feel like I know your life story already."

"Because of—"

"The interrogation. Calisto was afraid you'd feel attacked and unwelcome."

"Aquila!" Calisto said in a hiss. She glanced over at Prue, then said, "It's unfair to leave you at a disadvantage, I suppose."

Aquila worked with Calisto and Prue through the animal wrangling of Care of Magical Creatures, but in Herbology, Prue paired with Calisto to replant a green tulip with roots that danced like they had been hit by a jelly-legs jinx. Despite Calisto's complaints, they were one of the first done. When they were leaving the greenhouses, Calisto gasped and held her hand up for Prue to see.

"Look what it did to my skin. What is that?"

Prue looked at the small red spot on Calisto's pointer finger and sighed. "A hangnail. You've never gotten one before?" She reached out to stop Calisto. "No, don't pull it!"

Calisto let out a shrill shriek that had a few heads turning. "Merlin and Circe, that hurts!" She held tight to her finger.

"How do you not know that you aren't supposed to pull a hangnail?"

"Ahh, look for the nurse on the back of my schedule."

"You don't need to go to the nurse for a hangnail. They heal on their own."

"I don't care what muggles do. I want it gone."

Prue shook her head but obligingly turned over the schedule. "The Matron is going to laugh you out of the infirmary."

The school nurse sighed when Calisto stormed into the infirmary, but she didn't send them away. She got out a big tub of pinkish paste and spread a dot over Calisto's hangnail.

"Leave that on for ten minutes while I do some paperwork," she said, before disappearing into her office.

Calisto hummed at Prue because she'd been right, then jumped off the bed to walk around the infirmary.

Prue followed, inwardly shaking her head.

The infirmary had four other patients, two of which were first year Slytherins.

Calisto stopped at the edge of one of the beds to tut.

"Mulciber, Lestrange, what happened to you?"

In the other bed, Lestrange said, "Just a few broken bones, Calisto. Are you here to wish us well?"

Calisto held up her finger with the pink paste. "Herbology accident," she said, quite seriously. "How long are you going to be in here?"

"Probably until after dinner."

"Oh, that's tough. What happened?"

Mulciber said, "Why don't you mind your own business, Calisto?"

Calisto gasped. "Well, someone's not getting any sympathy next time they get themselves hurt! Let's go, Prue."

She turned away, with Mulciber sticking his tongue out at her back. Once they moved back out of sight, she said, "Mulciber is so rude. I don't know how Lestrange can stand him."

"You knew them before school?"

"Oh yes. Everyone always puts the kids together when there's parties. It's so embarrassing. I can't wait until I get older."

The nurse came back promptly at ten minutes, wiped Calisto's finger off to reveal flawless skin, and gave Calisto a small vial of the pink stuff for future hangnails. She told Prue that she had to come back and get her own if she wanted Skinknit paste too.

"The formula might not agree with your skin," Calisto explained.

It wasn't until after dinner, when Prue was in the library, reading her letter which turned out to be from the Matron of the orphanage, that she felt a tickling weight on her right ear. The library was large, and her table was half hidden by bookcases. Prue risked whispering, "Is that you, Buzz?"

Hearing the soft whisper of confirmation, she brought her hand next to her ear. He touched her pinky. Relief washed over her. "Hold on," Prue said, "I'll get somewhere private."

There were so many rooms in the castle, it was easy for Prue to find an empty classroom. She sat down at a bare desk, set out a piece of paper, and opened her well of ink.

"I was worried about you, Buzz. Where were you?" Prue looked away from the paper until she felt a tap on her ear. There on the paper in shaky black ink, was the word, _Hiding. _Buzz was still learning to write, and most of the time he was a terrible speller, but he knew how to write hiding.

"Why were you hiding?"

Buzz responded by drawing a stick figure of a human.

"Well, I guess there are a lot of people around, but I'll keep you hidden."

Buzz wrote_ Not _in front of the word_ Hiding_ he had already put down_._

"Do you mean not hidden enough?" There was an affirmative buzz in Prue's ear.

"I don't want you to leave me, Buzz." The Gribblywink gave her head two pats for, _It's okay._

"Will you stay with me?" One buzz.

"But only when I'm alone." Another buzz

Prue bit her lip. "I'm scared again. I got Slytherin, you know. One girl seems nice enough, but she's probably as dark as the others. And if the hat sorted me there, does that mean I'm evil too?"

There were two taps on her head and two buzzes, then Buzz floated down in front of her, waving to keep her attention on him. He landed on her pinky and wrapped his four arms around it as far as he could. Prue pushed her hand into the table to make sure it didn't shake.

"I'm going to find a way to fix your magic, so you can hide again and go anywhere you want." The problem was, she had no idea where to start. Gribblywinks were considered fantasy creatures even by wizards' standards. Hardly anyone believed in the species, let alone had complex information about their magic. There was no way she was going to find a how-to guide floating around the library, so she'd have to come at the problem from a different angle.

To Prue's surprise, Buzz stopped hugging her. He went back to the ink pot and dipped two of his hands in it. As soon as Prue realized what he was doing, she turned away again.

Buzz flew to float in front of her face. He got her to look over to the page again.

Wings and an extra set of arms had been added to the stick figure. There was also a line with a cloud at the top drawn next to it, along with an X and an arrow pointing from the figure to the cloud. Prue started at it, turning her head to look from another angle. Buzz added more ink to the page. Prue frowned. Buzz added some more.

A minute later, Prue looked at the scrawl of drawings and symbols, squished between misspelled words and individual scattered letters. As Buzz pointed to a drawing of a firework and an arrow, then jumped over to the word _hidden_ again, she said, "I think it's time for another writing lesson."

The lesson continued into dinnertime, delaying Prue by ten minutes. She wasn't used to leaving Buzz behind. It felt almost like betraying him. When she got to the Great Hall, most seats were filled. She headed to an open spot between Calisto and some older year.

"Prue, where have you been," Calisto said. "I thought I was going to have to find you and drag you to dinner myself."

"Sorry, I had to look up a few things in the library."

Without questioning the lie, Calisto started some light gossip in the guise of helping her get to know their fellow Slytherins. The Death Eaters sitting at the table distracted Prue, but she ignored her conscience telling her to interfere. She didn't want to get herself in more than she could handle again. There was nothing to do unless she wanted to go around telling people that she had a feeling that Tom Riddle was evil. Besides, in fifty years, he would be handled. Meddling might only mess that up.

She still couldn't help but tense when she saw that Abraxas Malfoy had sat with Tom Riddle.


End file.
